


Starstruck

by KarenR2



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fluff, Hetero, Multi, Romance, Slice of Life, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarenR2/pseuds/KarenR2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of loosely interrelated drabbles following the new farmer girl in Pelican Town. </p><p>Focus is primarily on relationship developments between the farmer girl and the characters, largely influenced by in-game events. F/F F/M Slight Multi. More tags will be added when additional chapters of other pairings are posted. Note: you can read each chapter as its own story without reading any prior ones. Pick your pairing fancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haley

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter focuses on the farmer girl and Haley. For the purposes of the story, the name of the character is Ren, the same as my game's farmer. Feel free to insert your own name, however! Since the story is in first-person though, it shouldn't jar with your immersion too much haha.

 

* * *

 

_But he that dares not grasp the thorn_

_should never crave the rose. - Anne Bronte_

* * *

 

It had started out as a game.

Being the fresh, new city girl moving into this quiet mountain town to try and salvage whatever happiness she hoped to make for herself, I was under no illusions that it was going to be easy.

While most of the locals had been sincerely welcoming (or in the very least, reluctantly polite), she was the only one to insult me upon first meeting (other than that Shane guy, who was point-blank rude of a different nature). My first impression of her was that of a viper, cloaked in the guise of an angel; although, the viper was nevertheless gorgeous on its own, beautiful and brightly coloured and elegant to a fault. "If it weren't for those horrendous eyes and your ugly face you might actually be pretty." A slow, sardonic smile formed so smoothly on her heavenly features. "Actually, never mind."

She had my attention from the beginning. She, among the herd of townsfolk who put up with me intruding upon their established way of life, did not veil her toxicity. Being from the city, I thought I knew her type well enough: the Queen Bee, superficial and self-centered, the only concern running through her little mind being the reflection of her mirror. Even if I had been ugly, what kind of person was she to just blurt out such careless words? I thought then that she felt threatened by me, as all queen bees do when a new female encroaches upon her territory. Perhaps she felt frightened by me, hence her strangely careless hostility; I was, after all, the new girl. 

She tried to tear me down, acting aloof and icy, hoping to drive me away so she could continue to gossip and ignore me without another care in the world. But it was that exact attitude that made me so fiercely try to actually win her over.

Like I said: it had just been a game. I'd make her like me, just so she could eat her words; I wanted her to see how she'd apologise after treating a friend so callously.

I never expected her to fall in love with me.

* * *

I tried to speak with her on a daily basis, giving her the same courtesy that I gave the rest of the villagers. She continued to regard me with a mock politeness, often lifting an elegant brow at my attempts before brushing me off entirely. The message was always clear: she had no desire to waste her time with me.

The first moment things began to change between us, I think, would have to be the day I stumbled into her and her sister arguing over chores.

It had been for such a stupid reason and the very topic was exasperating. I felt sorry for Emily, who had to live with this spoiled brat and tolerate her unique brand of laziness. But Haley's whining hadn't been the significant thing (oh, no, that part was expected); what was surprising was the fact that she looked to  _me_ for support.

Perhaps it had just been the heat of the moment; maybe she was willing to seek support from anyone and I just happened to be the one dumbly standing there, but it was rather strange nonetheless. According to her, we weren't friends (she didn't even seem to bother remembering my _name_ ), so why did she suddenly put me on the spot in the faith that I'd pick her side?

Because I definitely was not; it was a rather pathetic oversight on her part.

Emily apologised for her behaviour (I didn't miss Haley's scornful glare at that comment) and I was inclined to tell Haley to simply stop whining and just clean it already. But the more rational part of me remembered that I was trying to make her  _like_ me, and comments like that would only cause both the sisters grief. 

I was surprised with how amiable Haley took my suggestion. She was still irritated but she was complying, which was more than what I expected her to do (which was storm off and have Emily and I clean up after her like defeated parents in the face of a child's tantrum). 

It had been a rather anti-climatic event but it still stuck to my mind. It was the first time that what I had to say actually seemed to matter to her.

* * *

 

One day as I went to visit her sister, I found her instead struggling to open a jar. 

It was actually quite amusing to see; I'd never seen her face scrunch up in that way before. 

It was only when I walked up behind her that she actually noticed my presence. She jumped slightly, surprised, and turned swiftly to stare at me. When our eyes locked, I noticed a flash of recognition flash through her. 

"Oh! It's you... Ren, right?" 

Ah, so she finally remembered my name. It only took her a few weeks. I wanted to mockingly applaud her but controlled myself and instead answered with a quirked eyebrow and a smile. 

"Say... you're pretty strong, aren't you?"

I had only been here a few weeks and I couldn't say that farming was easy, especially when I exercised quite little back in my old life. I guess I was strong--I mean, I've been chopping down trees like an actual lumberjack (ignoring the exhausted late-night cursing and damning collection of splinters), so I definitely wasn't weak. In response to her question, I responded with uncertain and forced bravado, "Yes."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Great, then you shouldn't have any problem opening this jar for me!"

A premeditated challenge that I saw coming from a mile away. I couldn't just walk away now, so I took the jar from her and attempted to open it, praying that I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of her. 

There was a tense moment when I struggled to get it open and with a sinking heart, I resigned myself into making a fool of myself in front of her--but  _pop_ _!_ went the lid at my efforts ( _finally_ ), and I narrowly avoided the humiliation.

"Hey, you did it! You're stronger than you look!"

I scowled at her, giving her a look as if to say  _what's that supposed to mean_? But she only took the opened jar from my hands and batted away my irritation with a charming grin (did I imagine that wink?).

"Thanks!"

A convincing show of gratitude; a thankful smile. Despite my annoyance at her backhanded compliment, I couldn't help but begrudgingly admit, at this moment, that she was cute. Sometimes.

I forgot to see Emily that day.

* * *

 

Trying to get close to Haley was actually something I looked forward to each day. Even though I was often rebuffed, I never missed an opportunity to speak with her. It was a challenge, one that I wholesomely took on board. Would she like these flowers? What benign comment did she have to say to me today? In my mind, I dared Haley to try and repulse me; could she ever act horrible enough to drive me away?

But she could not, or at least, I was too stubborn and persistent.

It came as a surprise to me that on the day of my first Flower Dance, she and I were actually good enough friends that when I jokingly asked if she'd be my dance partner, she had said yes. 

I knew how much the Flower Dance meant to her--she always talked about it, how it was the highlight of her year, how she practiced weeks in advance to get the dance _perfect_ because she herself had to be perfect on the day. 

And she wanted to spend her most anticipated day... dancing with me?

The significance was not lost on me.

So numbly, I couldn't help but follow through with my request.

She looked gorgeous in that white dress. Bathed in the gentle, warm sunlight of Spring, bare feet sliding across fresh green grass, a crown of flowers that challenged her golden hair in its radiance--she had looked like a fairy. Or perhaps a nymph. She, in the very least, was the picture of angelic innocence and light.

I wondered how it would have looked to the others, as this delicate fairy danced so gracefully with an awkward girl covered in dirt and wearing overalls. 

Later on, I justified myself into thinking that just as she looked the part of nature on that day, so had I: after all, what was more one-with-the-earth than living the life of a farmer girl?

* * *

 

One day, she'd lost her great-grandmother's bracelet on the beach.

She had been so tearfully upset, sincerely genuine in a way I had never seen before. I remember thinking that if it had meant that much to her, then why had she been so careless as to lose it in the first place, the silly girl? Maybe she deserved to lose it; it would teach her to treat priceless things much more carefully than the materials of wealth that she surrounded herself with. But I didn't like to see her crying. It made her look vulnerable, something she never was; Haley was never small, meek, powerless. It was a distressing sight and it made my stomach churn.

So, I looked for her bracelet. I could have offered to buy her a new one to replace it, but that would encourage the type of behaviour I didn't want from her. She still had sentiment, apparently, despite what first impressions would say; suggesting such a thing would have probably blown up in my face anyway, and a wrathful Haley was an intimidating sight indeed.

I will never forget the look she gave me when I found her bracelet for her. I will never forget how she embraced me, completely forgetting proper decor and our respective statuses as the farmer and the rich girl. She had thrown her arms around me as if I was a long lost friend and words of gratefulness spilled out of her mouth like water bursting from a dam. 

I had never been so surprised and my heart had never thudded so hard against my chest than on that unassuming day by the sea.

She said she'd never forget what I've done, her face flushed and her eyes as blue as the sky, brighter than the ocean. 

I could only mentally agree with her: I'd never forget this day either.

* * *

Haley was so incredibly childish sometimes, despite how she acted all prim and proper.

It was cute how she moped in her bed all day when it rained.

Of course she was a creature of sunlight. Of course.

* * *

 

She is superficial and vain and selfish and cruel, but she was undeniably cute.

Remembering the events of the day, the spontaneity of it and the ridiculousness, drew an unwitting smile to my face as I tended to my nightly chores. It was the first time I'd ever seen her get dirty and, rather than screaming like a banshee at how her hair and clothes were covered in mud (and, let's face it, fecal matter), she had actually laughed it off despite her cringing and tearful disgust.

It was really amiable of her. It made me think she'd grown. 

I wondered if she'd like my cows too.

* * *

 

She said something randomly one morning that caught me completely off guard.

"I like the smell of dirt now."

A beat.

"... I think it might be thanks to you."

Her laughter was like a caress in the wind, her cheeks a pretty pink. I felt like I had just been punched in the gut as I watched her briskly walk away, unable to look me in the eye and a nervous smile gracing her face.

For all our previous banter, I had been rendered utterly speechless.

* * *

One day, out of the blue, she said she felt like trying something new for once.

Then she suggested that she might learn how to play the mini-harp.

As she said these words, she looked at me from beneath her long lashes, a coy smile on her lips. 

Again, I felt like I had been hit by a truck and I could only splutter unattractively in response, staring at her with wide, astonished eyes.

How did she know about that?

My heart hammered within its rib cage and I couldn't help but imagine us playing mini-harps together beneath the shade of forest trees with flower petals catching in her hair.

* * *

There was something exhilarating in knowing that someone who was usually so self-focused was actually noticing all the little things about you. Haley continued to surprise me with how much knowledge she actually had of me, expressed through secret smiles and twinkling eyes. When had she begun to look?

When had she become my best friend in this whole town? When had she been the one to know most about me, even when I hadn't explicitly told her anything?

When had a game of trying to outwit each other suddenly become something real, something like friendship, something a bit more?

I had been completely blindsided. I never meant for things to happen this way, but perhaps I should've foreseen this. We had an obsession with each other after all. I had been obsessed with making her like me, giving her gifts twice a week without fault. Granted, I gave everyone gifts often, but for her I paid extra attention to what she liked the most. She loved sunflowers above all else; isn't that typical of her? I nearly always knew where she was on any given day and if I didn't, I searched for her until I found her.

I didn't find it so strange at the time; after all, wasn't it normal to want to see your best friend?

(It still surprises me now, how I think of her as a  _best friend_. We had been enemies from the beginning, and now we've come to this? How laughably ironic.)

And in return, she let me in; she showed me sides to her that weren't privy to anyone else. She made me realise that she actually, deep down, was kind of sort of  _sweet_. She was a rose with thorns, but she'd hate that analogy, since she'd probably want to be compared more to a sunflower anyway.

* * *

 

Of all the people in town that had been so nice to me, just by the sheer force of effort I put into making her like me, she had become one of the few to know me so intimately.

Even though this was a game I made up in my head, I blamed her entirely. Her repulsive behaviour made me chase her, made me put strive to make her like me--all in the mindset that in the name of our developed friendship, I would find my own sweet vengeance. 

Perhaps I was being manipulative. Perhaps that was wrong of me, to pursue a friendship on such an impure basis. Perhaps it was karma that it ended up this way, then--life has this way of laughing derisively at your carefully-made plans and making you learn a 'lesson' that left you still spiraling in the ambiguous dark. 

A soft gasp. "... For me?" Small, delicate hands holding her newly-acquired gift. She looked at me coyly and, in what seemed like a ritual by now, breathed, "Thank you!"

The sun-coloured daffodil was perfect in her hands. It had been the first present I'd ever given her, and always gifted her when I had the chance. Looking back, it must have looked like I was trying to court her.

It started out a game, and perhaps it still was.

A game of chase, of cat and mouse, and by the knowing twinkle in her sky-blue eyes and the warmth in her gaze, I had no doubt that she knew she was playing this game with me too.

In a way, she always had been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is basically my thoughts after playing Stardew valley for three days straight and building up my relationship status with everyone. I found that Haley's dialogue and cut scene events were the most endearing/sweet, which caught me off guard. For being a bitch in the beginning, she ended up being one of the most surprisingly sweetest characters.
> 
> Next chapter will be Shane, because I fell in love with him during his two-heart scene--another unexpected happening. If he were a marry-able character, I'd want to marry him. (If you haven't noticed already, I have a thing for the problematic characters.)


	2. Shane

* * *

 

_Pray that your loneliness may spur you to find something to live for,_

_great enough to die for._ \- Dag Hammarskjold

* * *

I was out late chopping down some hardwood in that secret, enchanted forest when I spotted Shane by the fishing dock.

It surprised me, him being there. I was exhausted from my lumberjacking and it was pretty late in the evening; I hadn't expected anyone to be out as late as it was, especially out _here_. (I was the only one crazy enough to be wandering out late in the mountainside at night, I thought.) But there he was, a dim light in the darkness. I hadn't even recognised him at first; I was more drawn to the light from the lantern than anything else, curiosity taking over whatever caution my mind supplied with me with.

This was Pelican Town--no one here would hurt a fly, and the only dangerous things would be the monsters in the mines (and in that forest I had just crawled out of, but whatever). 

As I squinted my eyes against the darkness, I would recognise the back of his head and that mop of purple hair anywhere anyway. 

I approached him, my footsteps heavy against the wooden dock so that he wouldn't be surprised by my presence. I was sticky and clammy from cooled sweat and I was bone-tired, but I wanted to say hi to him anyway. It wasn't every day (or night, for that matter) I saw him anywhere else other than on his way to his job or at the Saloon.

"Hey, Shane," I said softly, pausing nervously. "May I join you?"

He hadn't even turned around to look at me. He didn't protest at least and I took that as an affirmative, stopping to stand by his side. For a moment, it was just me and him as we stared over the water, as black as could be when the light from the lantern could stretch no more. "Up late, huh," he grunted, finally glancing at me. "Here, have a cold one."

I was surprised when he suddenly handed me a bottle of beer. The glass was cold to the touch. I wondered if he often had late-night drinking companions by the lakeside, or whether he just brought a pack of beer to drink by his lonesome all the time. Some part of me was sad to realise that the latter would be more likely.

I wasn't much of a drinker but Shane was hardly ever nice to me so I wasn't about to discourage this. I accepted it with a weary smile and a mumbled thanks, slightly surprised when he leaned over to open the bottle and the snap seemed to echo in the valley's unnerving emptiness. I blushed and said nothing, not wanting to break the heavy quiet that seemed to envelop us at once. He looked away from me and peered over the lake again and I did the same.

There's something strangely peaceful in being here. Light mist rolled over the gently churning water; it was chilly but not unbearably so. It was incredible, really, how quiet the valley was when it was dark. There were no birds, no squirrels or rabbits hopping from bush to bush and rustling the foliage. Even at night, I often missed the silence with how I was always running around and doing chores and hastily making my way back home before I collapsed from exhaustion. I never just... stopped. 

I wondered if I should stop more often; it was tiring, always fighting a battle against time.

The man next to me was breathing audibly and I had no doubt that he was at least a little intoxicated. I could smell it, a contrast from the crispness of the lake water. It wasn't as if it was a new smell on Shane, though.

"Buh..." he suddenly muttered, taking a drink. "Life."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

"You ever feel like... no matter what you do, you're going to fail?" he began to ramble, blank eyes still gazing over the water. "... Like you're stuck in some miserable abyss and you're so deep you can't even see the light of day?"

My heart hammered against my chest. His words threatened to awaken emotions and memories that I wanted to forget. My throat was dry and I couldn't even look at him. What was happening right now?

"I just feel like..." he continued, a desperateness seeping into his tone that always came when he was intoxicated, when his defences were down and he could no longer arm his misery with barbed wires anymore, "no matter how hard I try... I'm not strong enough to climb out of that hole."

I felt a stinging in my eyes and pursed my lips. His words were an echo of my own, a long time ago, perhaps still is. In a way, I saw myself in Shane. I was usually a sunny type of girl, if a little quiet, but often seen smiling and making jokes nonetheless; it was as much of a facade as it was genuine. I knew what he was talking about. I knew about the blackness, about the four walls enclosing in on you to the point of suffocation, to the point where you couldn't even move your own limbs. You try and crawl yourself out of that hole, getting dirt and grit beneath your nails and feeling like it was getting in your blood, tainting you forever, but you don't care as long as you get _out--_ but you can't. You screamed until your voice was hoarse and tears threatened to choke you, and yet... no one came.

I remember that being lonely.

A wave of frustration and anger came at me then--or maybe it was just sadness? It was deep and echoing and it  _ached_ , and even though I didn't know Shane that well, my heart bled for him. 

Wanting to distract myself so I didn't start crying and spew out sentimental word vomit to this guy, I threw my head back and drank from my drink like a mofo. I chugged that disgusting beverage down until I nearly choked in the stuff, spluttering when I felt it threatening to go down the wrong way and spitting some of it out when I felt it dribble down my chin. I squeezed my eyes shut, already feeling lightheaded (I was an extreme lightweight and embarrassed about it, but it was late and it was dark and there was something about the darkness that gave you anonymity, made you someone else) and didn't stop until I finished most of the bottle.

When I finally put it down, it was with a surprised gasp, my face flushed and my heart beating erratically. I wondered if it was the smartest decision out here by the lakeside, but did I care? Not really. I stared dizzily out into the water and nearly jumped in surprise when I heard laughter from beside me.

"Heh... fast drinker, huh?" I glanced at him then, my vision a little bit blurry through the tears, and he was looking at me so strangely that I felt something lodge in my throat. In a quiet whisper and a look I didn't recognise on his face, he murmured to me, "Woman after my own heart."

I nearly screamed.

In my lightheaded state, I was in no position to be thrown lines like that. Not when I was suddenly feeling so vulnerable, the quietness and the coolness that encompassed us making it seem like we were the only two people in the world.

"Just don't make it a habit.." he said, seemingly blind to my sudden state of distress. "You got a future ahead of you still."

I wanted to scream that he did too. But with how dizzy and out-of-sorts I was, I didn't trust my mouth to say anything at the moment.

"Welp... My liver's beggin' me to stop. Better call it a night."

No. I didn't want him to go.

He made a move to grab the rest of his beer (it was only one left, really) and muttered carelessly, "See you around, Ren." 

No, please--

don't go.

His somber and accepting expression gave way to surprise and bewilderment as he suddenly looked down at the hand that clutched his jacket sleeve.

Oh. When did I give permission for my hand to do that? Still reeling at the effects of quickly-drunk alcohol, I thought that I didn't care anyway.

I still flushed red however when he looked directly at my face, lifting up a questioning eyebrow. I snatched my hand back and gestured wildly, trying to wave my actions away and only succeeding in making a spectacle of myself even more. "I, uh..." Maybe I should just jump into the lake to change the pace of the conversation entirely. My stammers and stutters and erratic movements were so  _loud_ against the mountain quiet and I hated it. Shane must think that I'm a freak.

The way he was staring at me as if I'd spontaneously grew two heads wasn't helping in the least. I felt myself heat up.

"Y-You can't just do that!" I suddenly spluttered, pointing at him accusingly. "W-Who gives a girl a beer at this time of night, and then ditches her to make her way back home on her own while intoxicated?" Dear lord. What was coming out of my mouth?

Shane was just as bewildered as I was. "You only had one beer."

"And I hardly drink _ever_."

Maybe I've been hanging out with Haley too much. I was acting like a spoiled brat. Oh god, I don't want him to  _hate_ me--

"I-I mean," I started, trying to salvage this train wreck of a situation, "your place is on the way to mine, and I'm going home now too, so--why don't I just walk you home? I mean, so I know you get home safely, and, er, yeah."

Sometimes I wanted to shoot myself in the foot with the stupid things that came out of my mouth.

And yet, amusement finally seemed to chase away the annoyance in his eyes. He commented dryly, "I'm sure I don't need a younger girl like yourself escorting an old man like me back home."

"You're not  _old_ ," I immediately rebuked. He only looked aged because he didn't take care of himself and let his stumble grow out like a wild man. (No offence to Linus; I loved that guy.) "Come on," I said, trying to sound earnest rather than desperate. "I'll walk you home."

I was pushing my luck, I knew. Shane hated my presence with an animosity that was nearly legendary, and just because he opened up to me tonight didn't mean that changed. I was probably driving him away even when he wasn't that close to begin with, and that thought left a bitter taste in my mouth far worse than the beer he'd given me. Remembering that he did, in fact, hate my guts was an effective way to slice through the alcohol-induced confidence that I had, and I hastily looked down to avoid his gaze and twirled the bottle of beer in my hands.

"Ah, just--never mind," I said quietly. I laughed, trying to diffuse the tension in the air that was being emitted solely from me. "I'm out here anyway, so I might as well fish. There's some fish that only come out at night, you know? And you have work in the morning, probably, so yeah, you should definitely go and um. Rest. Sleep. You'll need the energy tomorrow." 

I should never have alcohol. Ever.

His silence spoke louder than anything and I coloured, shifting in my place uncomfortably as I waited for him to walk away and never welcome me again by the lakeside. I was surprised when I heard him speak up again. 

"Fish, huh," he said. I was hooked by him, by the sound of his voice and the very fact that he was continuing the conversation on his own accord. "So you're tellin' me you have a fishing rod stacked away in that tiny backpack of yours?" 

No, I didn't. I hadn't planned to fish today, after all, and my backpack was indeed very small. I needed the room. 

"Come on," he said, turning away from me again and shrugging. "It's late, and as a farmer, don't you have to be up at the crack of dawn to do whatever it is you do? I shouldn't be the one telling you that it's time for you to go to sleep."

If only he knew that he was speaking to wannabe night owl.

But the weight on my shoulders lifted as I took the invitation for what it was and I gladly took my place beside him as we journeyed on home. Shane was being so nice tonight and I was under no illusion that it was because of a change of heart. He'd probably drunk more than he let on tonight, hence why he was feeling good enough tolerate the erratic behaviour of the new farmer girl. I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and thanked the stars that this night didn't end as badly as it could have.

Our walk to his house--well, Marnie's--was a quiet one. I felt like I said enough for one day and he didn't offer any words either, so we fell into a semi-comfortable silence. 

It was nice, I thought. Usually, I'd be walking home alone at this time of night. It was nice to have company, however reluctant.

Marnie's wasn't that far at all and the walk was over before it really even begun. He practically lived by the lakeside, which only made me feel dumber about escorting him home. I was going to follow through though, embarrassment be damned, and so I gritted my teeth in silence as I walked him up to the front porch.

"Well, this is me," he said, a little dryly. He turned and I couldn't read the expression in his dark eyes. "You still feel like you need me to walk you back to your place?" he asked, with a hint of sarcastic humour in his tone. 

I blushed, the alcohol having worn off a little by now. "No, I'm good," I said, trying to sound steady. "Sorry about that. I, um, don't know what got a hold of me."

He waved my words off and shrugged. "Not like I'm not used to you bothering me," he said. I felt a little saddened and distressed by his words, but then he offered me a crooked, very rare smile. "You're always trying to talk to me and get my attention somehow. Tonight ain't nothin' new."

Okay, so him having to say it out loud was enough to kill me in embarrassment. 

"You're a big girl. I think you can walk home yourself."

I nodded hastily, not wanting to look at his expression, my face burning. "Yeah, um, so, thanks for the drink, I guess, and the chat was um, good...?" _Please_ , god, someone shove a foot into my mouth  _right now_. "Well, goodnight!" I finally spewed out and I swiftly turned, nearly running to finally leave this forsaken situation behind and forget it ever happened.

"Hey, wait!" I heard his voice call from behind me, making me abruptly stop in my tracks like a puppet on strings. 

There was a pause between us and I could hardly see him in the dark; I couldn't read his expression even if it was visible to me. 

In the darkness, he murmured, "... Thanks. For listening, I guess. Sorry for putting that crap on you so suddenly like that, but..." He was looking at me and my stomach churned again. "I felt like you knew what I was talking about?"

It ended up as a question hanging in the air, and I couldn't help but meekly nod. Worried that he didn't see it, I croaked out a "Yes."

Yes, I knew.

He seemed to sag a little and there was pity in his dark eyes but something else as well. Something akin to compassion beneath that veil of intoxication. "Sucks," he grunted. "Never would have thought it, considering you."

I wanted to ask what he meant by that but I could tell that he was bone-weary and, honestly, so was I. So I forced a smile and murmured, "Goodnight, Shane. See you tomorrow."

He half-turned his body to the door. "Probably won't want to see you tomorrow," he said, but it was lacking its normal venom. "I'm gonna be rude to you, still."

Ah. A drunk man's honesty. Not that Shane needed alcohol to be brutally honest anyway.

I couldn't help but smile crookedly. "I know."

He shrugged and waved his free hand at me in an almost dismissive manner before he entered the house and slammed the door shut behind him.

I made my way back to my own farm house, heart still beating wildly in my chest at this encounter. The whole unexpected experience made me feel astonished and awed and, despite the awkwardness on my part (honestly, why can't I be  _cool_ ), I felt like I was finally getting somewhere with Shane. I hadn't really thought much of him before tonight but, as I collapsed on my bed and buried myself in the covers, I was forced to acknowledge that he was more than what met the eye.

And that intrigued me and made me more excited than anything else. 

What else was there of Shane to know?

I suddenly wanted to find out, more than anything. It was curiosity, it was intrigue--and really, I just didn't want him to be lonely anymore.

* * *

 

If I immediately started to pay more attention to him after that night, talking with him more often and finding out what he liked and gifting him things, then that was not really here or there.

If his words remained the same in its hostility, but his eyes were just a  _little_ softer than before, then I wouldn't be mentioning that out loud either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I honestly cannot WAIT until Shane is marry-able. He's going to be so cute, GAH. Will definitely be writing more Shane/Farmer Girl chapters, because um yes?


End file.
